


The Cool Kids

by thankyouforexisting



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Actress Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Angst, Awesome Laura Hale, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kid!Fic, LESBIAN Laura Hale, Laura-centric, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, No Kate/Derek tho, Slow Build, Stiles and Laura are best friends, Warning: Kate Argent, kids in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouforexisting/pseuds/thankyouforexisting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura was four when her parents brought home a baby. [...]<br/>The next day, she grabbed a basket and put her brother in it.<br/>The four month old baby blinked sleepily at her, and she grinned, “Hey, brother. This is for my own good,” she’d heard something like that yesterday at the movies, and it sounded cool.<br/>She carried the basket into the Preserve, taking care not to wake her sleeping parents, and walked for a while before setting it gently on the ground.<br/>“Animals of the forests!” she cried, “This is my offering to you! Take this baby in exchange for my family’s safety!” // Laura has tried to abandon her siblings 13 times (each), has convinced Scott that life isn't real in 8 occasions, and she's made her parents wish they'd stayed childless about 1000 times, but not really. A story in which little Laura grows up, and learns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cool Kids

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. This is a behemoth for me. Oh my god. I wrote this in a daze, not stopping, and I felt compelled to just write word after word. I'll probably edit it soon, because jeez, I can't be bothered right now. Careful if you're triggered by homophobia though! It's only internalized, but be careful. No non-con, but a mention that Kate tries to do things with Derek he didn't want, but nothing actually happens at all. Also, I had so much FUN! This was inspired by Marauder's Era fics I read, because PRANKS. Hope you enjoy. Title inspired like "Cool Kids" by ECHOSMITH  
> Dedicated to Dave, because you are awesome, and perfect, and wand jokes, bro.

_You're a part time lover and a full time friend_  
_The monkey on your back is the latest trend_  
 _I don't see what anyone can see_  
 _In anyone else but you_

 _-_ The Moldy Peaches "Anyone Else But You"

* * *

Laura was four when her parents brought home a baby.

She’d been told about it. Her mom had sat down on the couch one day, holding her dad’s hand, and they’d told her that she was going to have a little brother or sister.

Laura had sniffed the air, scrunched up her nose, crossed her arms over her chest, put her chin up, and had said, “No, I’m not.”

It was decided.

Even when her mom’s belly had started growing, when they’d painted the room, when they announced “It’s a boy!” and when Auntie Gwen and Uncle Peter had given them presents for the baby, Laura just knew she’d decided she wouldn’t have a brother, so, by logic, she _wouldn’t_ have a brother.

So it was a shock when mom came home from the hospital (they’d woken Laura up at some horrible time in the night, and she’d stayed with Auntie and Uncle for a while) and she had a small bundle in her hands, all wrapped up in a blanket, looking soft and warm.

“Laura,” Mom said, smiling at her sweetly, but looking very tired, “This is your brother, Derek.”

Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head, “No,”

Dad sighed, and Mom frowned, “Yes, Laura. Say hello.”

“No!” she snarled, eyes glowing.

And then the baby, who she refused to call Derek, looked at her with eyes a thousand colors, blue and green and brown and golden, his skin all pink, fingers swollen, and reached out a little, as if wanting Laura to hold him.

She stared at it helplessly, and sighed resignedly, “Okay, okay.”

That pretty much summarized Laura and Derek’s relationship.

…

Derek was tiny, and he was annoying, and he cried in the middle of the night, and his fangs hurt him, and he cried in the middle of the night, and he spilled food all over himself, and had Laura mentioned that he cried in the middle of the night?

An incredible idea occurred to her, and she smirked from where she was watching her parents try to get a bawling Derek to sleep.

The next day, she grabbed a basket, filled it with blankets and blankets until she was sure it’d be comfy, and put her brother in it.

The four month old baby blinked sleepily at her, and she grinned, “Hey, brother. This is for my own good,” she’d heard something like that yesterday at the movies, and it sounded cool.

She carried the basket into the Preserve, taking care not to wake her sleeping parents, and walked for a while before setting it gently on the ground.

“Animals of the forests!” she cried, “This is my offering to you! Take this baby in exchange for my family’s safety!”

She’d rehearsed the speech ten times, and she was really proud. Meg, a girl in first class who was always hanging out at the little children’s corner, had helped.

The animals of the forests didn’t really care much for Derek, it seemed, because none of them surged forward to claim him as their own, which was rude, because he was a werewolf and had been brought up by Laura, so he was _bound_ to be awesome.

Her parents found her kneeling on the grass, waiting for the creatures of darkness to kidnap her brother, and gave her the scolding of her life.

She protested, “But I couldn’t sleep! He _always_ cries! He’s such a baby!”

Mom just sighed.

…

Cora arrived when Derek had just turned two.

Laura stared at her parents when they told her, “Really? Are you kidding? But I just finished raising Derek!”

Mom’s eye twitched, “ _We_ raised Derek. _You_ offered him to the animals of the forests, tried to convince Uncle Peter that he was possessed by a demon, and brought him to school without our permission to act as baby Jesus in a school play.”

Laura grinned, “That was a good one.”

Dad smiled, winking at her, and she felt proud, “And anyway, this wasn’t as planned as Der. But we really want you to treat your new sibling right, okay, L? No more trying to get rid of her.”

She pouted, “But –“

“No buts!” her mom wagged a finger, “Or I’ll tell Derek you want some hug time.”

Laura recoiled in horror, “You are a bad person, mom. The last time he gave me a hug he almost clawed my face off.”

“He’s just controlling his shift, honey. You were just as bad. I had some scars I could _not_ explain to the neighbors…”

“Yeah, right,” Laura muttered under her breath, “Tell that to the police when they find my body.”

Derek, from his seat on the couch, held up his arms and squealed, “’Aura!”

She sighed and held him.

…

Cora was even tinier than Derek had been.

She also glared at everything, and bit anyone who came close. Derek tried to hug her many times, and he always started crying when  Cora whined and refused, and Laura had to comfort him and pat his head and say, “There, there.”

It was obvious that three was a crowd, so she did something about it.

“Mom and dad aren’t even than attached to her,” Laura added, confident, when Derek looked dubious.

“Laurah,” Derek started. He’d finally gotten the ‘L’ sound right, but her name still sounded weird when he said it, “Don’t like Coh-rah?”

Laura sighed dramatically, “It’s not that simple, Derek. We’re doing it for the good of the family. I don’t expect you to understand.”

So Laura waited until Mom was at work and went to Dad.

“Daaaad,” she whined, “Can we go on a waaaaaalk?”

“Sweetie, you know I’m writing,” he mussed up her hair, and Laura sniffed.

“But I wanna go on a waaaaaaalk. And I wanna go nooooooow.”

“Laura, you’ll just have to wait.”

“Can’t Derek and I go aloonneee? I like Derek, I won’t abandon him.”

The unspoken _again_ made Dad flinch, and he looked unconvinced.

Laura used Puppy Eyes. It’s super effective!

“Okay, okay,” he sighed, “I’m going to regret this. But. Just a walk to the park, we’ve been there all the time. 15 minutes, that’s it. Control your brother’s shift, he’s only three.”

“And a half,” Laura added automatically, “And I’m eight. I’m _old_ now.”

“And no taking Cora,” his Dad narrowed his eyes, “You understand me?”

This was tricky. Mom and Dad could hear when they lied. But Laura _did_ understand him, so she smiled cheekily and assured him she did.

The minute she was out of the room, she got Derek dressed, grabbed the basket which had been his home for a few hours, and stashed a glaring Cora in it.

Her little brother said, weakly, “Laura, I’m not sure –“

She shushed him, “It’s for the greater good, Derek. You have to understand this.”

The two of them walked out the door with Cora in the basket (probably glaring at them through the blankets) and Laura turned away from the park and instead went to Brad and Mary’s house.

Brad and Mary were new neighbors, about a ten minute walk away. They were on a small cabin, but they had a video game console and they always gave Laura sweets and they were a couple, so Laura _knew_ they’d take good care of Cora.

She knocked on the door, and Derek chewed on his sleeve. She hated when he did that.

Mary opened the door, surprised, “Hey, Laurie, Derek! Where are your parents?”

“Dead,” Laura announced, turning her head away for dramatic effect, as if hiding her tears, “I shall take care of my dear brother, but I’m afraid a baby is too much for my young body. Would you do me the honor of raising my sister as your own?”

They called Dad.

He looked more pained than anything when he picked them up, Cora in his arms, still glaring, “I’m really sorry, Mary, Laura is such a handful sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” Derek blurted out, and ran to him, hugging his legs, “I’m a very bad boy.”

Mary cooed, “He’s such a sweetheart.”

Laura felt enraged. She was cute too!

“And anyway, you should be proud of her. She’s very dramatic, you should probably sign her up for acting classes. And she’s a great thinker.” Mary smiled at Laura, her big warm brown eyes glittering. Laura was always jealous of how Mary looked: her skin was much, much darker than hers, and she always wore white sundresses, and her hair was huge and pretty.

She’d just confirmed Laura’s suspicion that she was immensely clever as well.

Dad hmm-ed, thoughtful, and grinned, “Maybe after she’s finished doing the dishes for being such a bad older sister.”

Derek gave her a smug smile from between Dad’s legs. The traitor.

…

They signed Laura up for acting classes.

She had _so_ much fun, and she made so many wonderful friends. They laughed at her stories about Derek and Cora, and they even made some schemes of their own. After three months of acting classes, they’d almost successfully convinced Derek that he was an alien and adopted. He’d burst out crying, and Dad had sighed in that completely ‘Dad’ way of his. How boring.

But what Laura most enjoyed about acting class was the teacher: Mrs. ‘Call me Claudia’ Stilinski was the greatest adult _ever_. She sat on the ground and didn’t believe in wearing shoes and whispered when other adults came near and she jumped and ran and played all the time without being worried about dirt or looking stupid. Laura _adored_ her.

Cora started showing her fangs and adding to her glare with her beta eyes, and Mom made proud Mama Wolf noises and took them all out for ice cream. In the house. Where no one could see the fanged one year old.

Full moons became “Laura Hale’s Babysitting Night of the Month”, because she always got stuck carrying a sleepy Derek and a milder than usual Cora on her back, walking slowly through the woods instead of running like she wanted to, but it was alright. Laura had relented on the idea of abandoning Cora when she’d started crying one night and only Laura’s hug had quieted her. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

One time, when it was storytelling time at theatre class, Laura mentioned her siblings, and Claudia laughed so hard she cried.

“Did you really tried to offer your brother to the creatures of the forests?” she asked, sounding strangled.

Laura nodded seriously, “They didn’t want him, though. It’s okay now, because he gives me hugs. I like hugs.”

“I dread to think about what will happen to that poor boy once he stops giving you hugs,” Claudia joked, and then she had to explain about what ‘dread’ meant.

Mom picked her up, like always, but this time, Claudia walked over to her and introduced herself by saying, “So, your daughter wanted to get rid of her siblings?”

An amazing friendship was born.

…

Everything changed when Claudia brought Genim over.

She’d mentioned him a lot, and Laura had heard Mom and Claudia saying his name when they had coffee together at home. She knew Claudia was married to Deputy Stilinski, who had more than once found  Laura trying to sell her sister on the streets of Beacon Hills, and who’d just chuckled and said, “My son’s the exact same.”. She knew that son was called Genim, and he was Cora’s age, and he had a hard time staying still.

She hadn’t expected _this_.

Claudia had come over, and Laura had given her monologue (why do birds exist?-a serious business question by Laura Hale), and then a tiny head had popped out behind her legs, all brown eyes and smiles.

“Hi,” five year old Stiles said, looking at Laura, “I’m Genim.”

She smiled, and bowed like a gentleman, “Hello, Mr. Stilinski. My name is Mr. Darcy.”

Genim, to her surprise, didn’t look confused: he _beamed_ , and said, “Can I be Elizabeth Bennet? Can I? Can I?”

They played together for the whole afternoon, shouting and laughing. Laura had expected Genim to be like Cora, who only cared about sports and who didn’t read books if he teacher didn’t force her to, but the boy shared some stories about him and his friend Scott that reminded her of Laura and Derek, and he loved acting (“When I’m six, which is _very_ soon because I’m almost a big boy, Laura, I’m going to _act_. I’m going to be a _billionaire_ , and I’m going to have a _giant turtle_.”), and he read stories and he wanted to play _fun_ games, not like Derek, who liked Scrabble and Clue. Genim chased her around and they played Cops and Robbers and Laura laughed so much.

Which was when Derek and Cora came back from gym with Dad.

Cora took one look at Genim and Laura, playing a fantasy game in which Laura was a dragon and Genim was a wizard, and huffed like the snob she was, immediately going up to her room without even telling Mom hello.

Derek, on the other hand, stared at Genim for a good long twenty seconds before the other boy blinked and said, “Hi! Are you Derek? Do you want to play with us?” he was smiling openly, and he was missing a tooth, and his eyes were sparkling.

Laura was about to tell him that Derek was an old bore and he preferred reading boring stories and doing boring things and he hadn’t played a fantasy game since he was four and could easily be manipulated, but her brother immediately said, “Yes,” sounding nervous.

Genim smiled, “Cool! I’m the great wizard Merlin, and Laura is Smaug the dragon.”

“They’re from different stories,” Derek blurted out, and then put a hand over his mouth, looking horrified.

Laura frowned. Usually Derek would’ve complained about how dumb Laura was and how characters were supposed to _stay_ in their stories.

“I know!” Genim grinned excitedly, “It’s more fun this way!”

And, to the whole room’s bewilderment, Derek played a knight in a fantasy game.

In Laura’s stomach, a heavy feeling of doom began forming.

…

Cora was being very specific about her fifth birthday party.

“No princesses, no knights, no dragons, no hobbits, no elves, no magic, no pink, no mermaids…” Laura tuned her out, dropping her face on her chin.

Derek was sitting on the couch, writing in sloppy handwriting on his purple notebook. She watched him. Every few minutes after writing, he paused, looking at the paper, smiled stupidly, and continued. Weirdo.

“I’ve decided it will be a themed party,” her little sister decided after an hour of forbidding things, and Laura was jealous she knew the word ‘themed’, “The theme will be: death.”

Mom and Dad tried to convince her to change it, saying that “it wouldn’t be appropriate, sweetheart,” and “we will probably get thrown into jail, honey,”, but Cora was adamant.

“I will wear skull dress,” she announced to the room, and marched upstairs, running so no one could catch her.

Her parents sighed in unison.

“Can I be a _demon_?” Laura jumped up and down, “I want to be a _demon_! Claudia gave me a monologue for a demon and it would be AWESOME!”

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, “I was normal as a child, Talia. What did you do?”

She just smiled and ruffled Laura’s hair, “She can be a demon if she wants to, Charles. Let her express herself.”

“Yeah, right,” Dad muttered darkly.

Laura beamed at Mom, “Derek doesn’t even need a costume; he’s already quiet and broody enough.”

Derek looked up and glared at her, “Shut up, Laura.”

“What you writing there, big boy?” Dad sat beside him on the couch, smiling at her little brother, and Laura waited, expectant.

Derek _blushed_ , and said, “Nothing,” while closing his notebook and protecting it from being stolen.

The three of them exchanged a glance.

…

A few days before the party, Genim turned up at the Hale House, and declared in an angry voice, “Genim is a stupid name and I don’t like it. My name is Stiles now.”

The whole family stared at him in bewilderment, and he bowed dramatically, “That will be all.”

Claudia, leaning against her car and laughing her face off, nodded wordlessly.

…

It seemed like _everyone_ in Beacon Hills showed up to Cora’s birthday party.

Laura wasn’t even _kidding_ , she saw high schoolers hanging out in the kitchen, drinking her parents’ beer; the old lady club from the casino sitting on the couch and chatting  animatedly; Laura’s theatre class came too, though she’d invited him, not like _Greenberg_ , a couple years younger, who’d showed up without telling anyone first.

Stiles was there, too, dressed up as a reaper, grinning madly and shouting Laura’s name.

“Hey!” she smiled cheerfully.

“I’ve brought two of my friends, Scott and Lydia,” he pointed at a girl and boy standing near the barbecue, both Cora’s age, “I was hoping we could pretend Cora was dead again.”

Laura winced, “Dad forbade me after someone called 911 that one time, sorry. But we could probably put sugar on the barbecue?”

Stiles smirked, “Let’s.”

They were about to head out, giggling, when Derek stopped them, “Stiles?”

Stiles turned, and frowned, “What are you supposed to be? You’re just wearing black!”

Her brother pouted, and Laura did _not_ find it adorable, “I’m like a shadow. I…I really like your costume,” he stammered.

Stiles nodded matter-of-factly, “It’s the best costume. Bye, Derek, got to do some…perfectly normal stuff.”

They left him there, and put sugar on the ribs, and Stiles’s dad gave them the longest speech about bad behavior Laura had ever heard.

Derek cut in the middle of it, blinked innocently, and said it truly was a mistake, and they were forgiven. Stiles looked at him with complete and utter adoration. Laura narrowed her eyes, suspicious.

…

Laura turned twelve, and puberty hit her like a ton of bricks.

Body odor. Zits. Period. _Bras_. Boys giggling and making dick jokes. Shaving. Eyes glowing for literally no reason. Her fangs lengthening when she was in the shower.

And with that, the traumatizing Talk.

Her mom sat her down, her  dad by her side, and Laura’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, “Mom? Are you pregnant again?”

Mom laughed, “No, Laura, I’m not pregnant. Your Dad and I thought it was time to talk about some very important things.”

She felt faint. Surely…?

“You’re getting older now, and boys start to notice girls…”

No. All the blood left her face, and she wanted to puke.

“…and girls start to notice boys…”

Death, she thought, come to me.

“…and sometimes our wolves can get excited –“

“ _Woah_ ,” she interrupted, eyes wide, her hands out in front of her as if to protect the remains of her sanity and dignity, “I do _not_ need The Talk. Just. No. Besides, boys are gross. You should give the Talk to Cora, she had a boyfriend last week!”

Mom raised her eyebrows, and continued for the most horrifying half hour of Laura’s life.

After it was done, she quietly went up to her room, closed the door, and fell onto her bed, face-first, trying to forget everything.

“The world is unfair,” she whined, not bothering to lift her head.

Derek came by after a while, “Need food? Still alive?”

“Go away!”

“No, then.”

She got revenge by convincing two sweet old women that the Hales were great people who would _definitely_ love to help by buying an overly-expensive horrible painting of a cat. She just smiled sweetly when her parents glared.

Cora was six and disgusted with life. She quickly made friends with Stiles’s Lydia, and they both managed to look down at everything and have fun, though her little sister still enjoyed great pack cuddles (although the family was sworn to secrecy, now.) Stiles and Lydia hung out a lot in the Hale House, where there was always someone screaming as they discovered a spider in their room, and  where one could hear Derek scowling and scolding Laura while praising Stiles’s cleverness. Traitor of a brother.

Speaking of Derek, he joined _book club_ , as if he wasn’t enough of a nerd already. Heh. Not even ten and destined for nerdiness forever, the world was truly cruel sometimes.

“Laura,” Stiles started cautiously one day, “Now that you’re twelve…are you tired of coming to theatre club?”

Laura stared at him in horror, “Of course not! I would _never_ give it up!”

He swallowed, wringing his hands in his lap, looking anxious, “Do you think I’m dumb and little? Lydia said she couldn’t understand like someone like _you_ would be my friend.”

Laura huffed, “Then Lydia is dumb and she doesn’t know what she’s saying. I don’t care that you’re little. But don’t tell Derek Lydia said that, you know he’ll shout at her.”

Stiles beamed.

(Lydia found out three days later that blue hair dye had been added to her shampoo)

…

Stiles find out about werewolves by accident.

He and Laura were walking along, laughing easily, distracted, because Mom and Dad had told Laura that Stiles was little and someone had to walk him home in case he got lost or something, even though she protested Stiles was smarter than all of them.

They were giggling at Martha’s expression at recess when they’d pranked her with a giant fake spider, and how she’s shrieked, when the man stopped in front of them, smiling.

Laura startled. She usually smelt anyone before they came in within six feet of her, always cautious, but puberty was messing with her senses. She groaned internally.

“Hi,” she smiled hesitantly, unsure what he wanted, “Do you need anything?”

The man, greasy-haired, with a strange smile that made Laura’s stomach turn, said, “Are you walking this way? My house is at the end of the street, and it’s dangerous for kids to go walking alone.”

Stiles bristled beside her, “I’m not a _kid_.”

But Laura’s blood had frozen, “No, thank you. Come on, Stiles,” she grabbed his hand, ignoring his complaint, “Mom will come pick us up anytime now.” She directed the last statement at the man, eyes cold.

Apparently, the creepy guy didn’t care. He reached for Stiles, frowning now, and then grinning wickedly, and went to pull him away from Laura.

She couldn’t help it; she snarled, her eyes glowing, picked Stiles up, and ran from the scene, sprinting towards the Hale House, heart pounding, hoping desperately no one saw them, her hands shaking, Stiles on her back.

Mom ran at them before they were even in Hale territory, eyes glowing red with anxiety and fear, and Laura cried, “Mom!” and she hugged them both.

Stiles was deathly quiet, eyes widened but avoiding their gaze, and he was crying without making a sound. Laura went to touch him, soothe him, but he stepped back as fast as he could. Mom bit her lip, “Stiles –“

But she didn’t get to finish, because Derek was _running_ , really running, as if his life depended on it, gaze set on Stiles, looking worried and scared, and the six year old, who’d refused Laura’s arm as if she was on fire, gladly went to Derek’s hold, burying his face in her brother’s shoulder.

It took a while for Stiles to come around, and he refused to let Derek go. Laura’s most annoying sibling snarled at anyone who came close to Laura’s _best friend_ , thank you very much, grumpy-face, and Mom and Dad looked really, really shifty, shooting glances at each other and at the two of them, and Cora glared at her parents and then declared, “I like Stiles.”

He smiled at her, shy, and that was all it took. An hour of explaining that the Hales would never hurt him, and that werewolves controlled themselves perfectly and that Stiles had nothing to fear, and _Cora_ just said she liked him, and he was normal again.

…

Laura’s first kiss was awkward, and gross, and wet, and she hated every single moment of it. As Fred Martin (one of Lydia’s distant cousins) eagerly waved his tongue around in her mouth, she couldn’t help thinking, _really? This is what excites people so much?_

Martin finished torturing her with his wandering hands, and said, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Laura wrinkled her nose, raised an eyebrow, and retorted, “I don’t know. Will flying aliens abduct met tonight? Because they’re both as likely, you know.”

He turned red, and swore at her, and went to tell everyone that Laura Hale was a stupid, slutty bitch who fucked guys and then left. She retaliated by printing the pages of his dad’s Grindr profile and hanging it on the school newsboard.

Dana, a girl in her class who was usually quite reserved and didn’t really have any friends, approached her at lunch.

“I know you did that to Martin,” she announced as she sat down, with all the melodramatics of a thirteen year old, “And I know what he said about you isn’t true,” she smiled, looking nervous, “He’s a jerk. Wanna be friends?”

Laura grinned, “Sure, gurl.”

Dana blushed, stared at her lunch, and sneaked glances of Laura while they chatted about the latest History assignment.

…

“I think we should go camping,” Uncle Peter announced out of the blue, sitting on the couch at the Hale House, “Just me and the kids.”

The three stared at him, looking up from their homework, incredulous.

“Uncle Peter,” Laura started, careful, “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Derek cautiously added, “Maybe we should go on another type of trip?”

Cora selected her words with care, “And perhaps we should bring more adults. We might be too much.”

The three of them neglected mentioning that Uncle Peter had once started crying when they went to a hotel in Kansas and his favorite shampoo wasn’t available, or that he’d once gone to the ER, convinced he was dying, only to discover that he just had a slight fever. Uncle Peter was fun, and he brought them presents, and he was great at coaxing them through their wolf form, but if asked, they would all say he wasn’t a “camping” kind of guy.

But he smiled brightly, and repeated, “Just me and the kids.”

“The kids and I,” Derek corrected under his breath, because Derek was a _nerd_ and wasn’t appreciating the seriousness of the situation.

“We’ll bring Lydia and Stiles, of course,” Uncle Peter continued, ignoring him, and suddenly, Cora and Derek were completely on board with the trip.

Laura _groaned_.

“And Dana,” Uncle Peter winked, and Laura sighed in resignation, but smiled none the less.

Somehow, they managed to buy a tent, sleeping bags, appropriate clothing, firelighters, good mountain boots, and more than a whole week’s worth of food.

They were going to spend _one_ night literally less than a mile from home, in the Hale woods, and Laura’s mind boggled at the amount of things, but Lydia and Stiles took to the preparation eagerly, making spreadsheets and graphics about the temperature in the Hale woods at night, and made the rest of them (including Uncle Peter) memorize what to do in case of:

  1.        Bear attack
  2.        Dehydration
  3.        Avalanche
  4.        Hypothermia
  5.        Mountain lion attack
  6.        Some random woman giving birth there for absolutely no reason



“We can’t just dismiss women’s issues because they’re improbable,” Lydia declared when they all looked at her like she was mad, “That is a flaw in our modern society.”

Stiles gazed adoringly at her, “You are the smartest person ever.”

Derek grumbled and sulked.

Finally, on the first night which was the _exact_ perfect temperature, they headed out, Stiles happily parroting away to Derek, who looked the picture of fondness, and Dana giggled when Laura tickled her, and Uncle Peter screamed when he stepped on mud.

Like, just mud. Nothing else.

“My _shoes_ ,” he whimpered, curled into a ball.

Nobody mentioned all his clothes were probably going to be ruined if he lay on the floor like that. Even Dana, who was the newest addition, sensed it was _not_ a good idea.

“Come on, Uncle Peter,” Derek’s voice was encouraging and understanding, “You can do this, you’re strong.”

He got up after ten minutes of reassurances, and look teary eyed for the rest of the trip.

They found a spot which was “acceptable” according to Lydia, and everyone helped set everything up. The werewolves shouldered most of the weight, even though Dana was indignant and demanded she help as much as everyone else.

Stiles, from where Derek was doing all of his work, just smirked and rested.

Cora got a fire going, and she looked so smug that Lydia wacked her over the head, reproachful. Everyone except Uncle Peter (who claimed he was watching his figure) roasted marshmallows, and threw the sticky bits at each other. Cora got some of it stuck in her hair, but nobody felt brave enough to tell her, and hoped for the best. They told scary stories around the orange flames, making sounds and shouting at the critical moment so everyone would jump, and Uncle Peter shrieked.  Dana shrieked too, and leaned against Laura, feeling warm and cozy and solid, and she didn’t mind, not one bit. She snuggled a little bit closer, even.

They’d bought a huge tent, because Uncle Peter claimed that he didn’t want the little kids to sleep on their own, but everyone knew it actually was because he _liked_ having his nephews around him, the big softy.

Thus followed a night of Cora and Lydia cuddling in their sleeping bags, dead to the world, while Uncle Peter snored (“I don’t snore!” “You totally do.”), waking Laura up every time she managed to fall asleep. She glared at her Uncle, fingers twitching with the need to shake him awake, but knowing he’d make a fuss about it, and tried to fall asleep again, but Derek and Stiles were whispering things right _next_ to her, occasionally giggling or shushing themselves so as not to wake anyone, even though they’d already _failed_ spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up,” snapped Dana from her right after the sixth time she’d hissed at the two boys, “Get in my sleeping bag, it’s warm. But you better keep your mouth _shut_.”

Laura colored, nervous, but she did as told, feeling her heart beat faster, and thanked god that Dana couldn’t hear it pounding against her ribcage. She wriggled into the sleeping bag, aware of the small space, her mouth dry, and felt Dana’s body hard and lean against hers. She could still hear the boys, and Uncle Peter’s snoring, but the loudest noise was her heavy breathing. Dana smirked in satisfaction when she stopped complaining, somehow not _noticing_ that Laura was going out of her mind,  and said, “There, there. Go to sleep, grumpy face.”

“That’s Derek,” she replied automatically, her voice sounding very far away. She’d never felt like this before, her skin crackling with electricity, and, to her horror, she could sense her wolf howling inside of her, wanting to be out, to claim, to bite, to _own._

She swallowed.

“Whatever,” Dana rolled her eyes, and closed them.

Laura didn’t fall asleep in a very long time.

The sunlight woke Stiles up, and Stiles’s bucket of water woke the rest.

All of them shouted at the kid, who just smiled and fluttered his lashes innocently, except Laura, who high-fived him, proud. She decided to ignore the warmth in her chest when she glanced to see Dana scolding him, brown eyes bright.

 _She looks beautiful when she’s mad_ , she thought suddenly, and felt like everyone had heard it. She looked around, anxious, and her eyes met Derek’s knowing ones. He smiled sadly.

…

Laura spent the weeks leading up to her fourteenth birthday on the Internet.

Her most recent google searches were:

_How to tell  if youre a lesbian_

_can u be a lesbian if youve kissed a guy_

_what does being a lesbian feel like_

_were to get chloroform-for a prank, fbi, chill_

Every time her parents came into her room, she snapped her laptop shut with a haste that made them frown in confusion, but she guessed they just chalked it up to her being a teenager, because they didn’t comment on it.

She planned a small party, because birthdays were important at the Hale House, and Lydia usually demanded she should be the ‘party planner’.

Laura couldn’t _wait_ until Lydia went to high school.

All of Beacon Hills was invited, naturally, as they always were, but she made special, handwritten invitations for her theatre class, her friends at school, Stiles, obviously, and the old ladies’ club that loved Jane Austen, because those people were special.

She didn’t make it a themed party, because only Cora got to do that, but her parents helped put up balloons and Derek drew beautiful banners and she cuddled him on the couch to thank him, and Lydia made a color palette she was pleased with and bought all the decorations.

Everyone was having fun and laughing, and Laura should be  overjoyed that her party had turned out great, but all she could feel was dread. She’d seen Dana hanging out, had even heard her asking people where she was, but she was avoiding her like the plague. In school, where they passed sneaky notes and lay on the grass with Jeff and Matt, it was easier to pretend that she didn’t want to kiss her and join their hands, to pretend she wasn’t _wrong_ , and disgusting and a _mistake_.

And this was her birthday. She could ignore and avoid whoever she liked.

Laura bumped into Claudia and the Sheriff, and she smiled, already feeling lighter. When her eyes settled on her teacher, she frowned.

Claudia was a little pale, looking woozy, her usually bright self just slightly dimmed. She was leaning on her husband a bit,  like she was tired.

“Hey, Claudia, hey Sheriff. Everything alright?”

Stiles’s mother smiled sincerely at her, “Just perfect, sweetheart, I’m just a little worn out. Did you like the dialogue I gave you last week? I think Tom and you would do a great job.”

She’d given Laura _Romeo and Juliet_ , to study, and she’d looked hopeful and proud, and Claudia had declared that Laura was brilliant at acting and this was a very nice play, and if she went over it with Romeo she’d probably stage it, and Laura would get Juliet.

At the time, Laura had felt dizzy with excitement, trembling, feeling so happy she’d felt tears at the corners of her eyes, and she’d assured Claudia that she’d definitely look at it.

And then she’d read it, the words of love, the declarations, the passion, and dread had pooled in her stomach. Because she could never say that. Not to _Tom_ , cheerful, amazing Tom, who was marvelous at acting. She couldn’t say that _ever_ , because what she felt was _wrong_ , and a sin, and something to hide, and she’d been unable to read the lines out loud without throwing up. Thankfully, her parents hadn’t noticed.

Thankfully, they hadn’t noticed anything.

Laura deflated, “Ah, yeah. I was, um, busy.”

Claudia frowned, “Oh.”

“I’ve, er, got to go,” she fled.

She was still sitting alone in the darkest corner she could find, hiding from everyone, when Stiles found her.

Her best  friend (because even though Dana was wonderful and Laura felt things she _shouldn’t_ when she was with her, Stiles would always be her best friend, even though she knew Scott thought the same thing. Stiles was just lucky enough to have two best friends.) sat in front of her, looking older than eight year old, and held her hand.

“You’re not okay,” he stated, voice leveled.

Laura shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“I love you anyways. Mom always says you should remind people that you love them when they’re upset.”

Laura cracked a small smile, and croaked, “Your mom’s the best.”

“I know,” Stiles came closer, and wrapped his arms around her, and Laura sobbed and felt guilty for a second, because Stiles was _eight_ , and he shouldn’t have to comfort her, but he was warm and he loved her and it didn’t matter that she was older, or a werewolf, or a girl, or a sinner, as she’d read on the Internet.

She let herself be held for a while, and then wiped her tears on her sleeve, pulling away.

Stiles was still holding her hand, though, and  she smiled weakly again, to reassure him she was going to be okay.

“You should talk to Derek,” he  said suddenly, “He always makes me feel better when I’m sad.”

Laura rolled her eyes, “That’s because Derek worships you.”

Stiles huffed, “He can’t stop talking about you, either, Laura. You’re his _sister_. I don’t have any sisters.”

She smiled, “Who says you don’t, doofus?”

Stiles beamed.

…

Laura was gathering her courage to talk to Derek when Claudia touched her shoulder one day after theatre class.

“Can you stay for a minute?” she asked, and her voice allowed no argument.

Laura swallowed. She was pretty sure it was going to be about _Romeo and Juliet_ , because she hadn’t said anything about it, and Claudia was smart, like Stiles was smart, and she’d probably figured out that something was wrong with her.

She nodded, and they waited in awkward silence until they were alone.

“Why  are you depressed, Laura?” Claudia asked bluntly.

Laura startled, “I’m not depressed!”

“You haven’t pranked anyone in a month, you barely tease Derek, you’ve been rejecting Dana’s calls, and you act like it’s a chore. Your mom’s been calling me, worried about you, because she doesn’t know how to talk to you.”

Laura’s mouth dropped open,  “I –“

“You were _ecstatic_ about _Romeo and Juliet_ , I know you were, and all of the sudden you don’t even mention it. I once made a comment to John,” the Sheriff, “and Stiles, _Stiles_ , told me to leave you alone.”

Her eyebrows were pretty high. Stiles believed pestering was the key to all social interaction.

Laura looked at her feet, “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

 _No, I’m not_ , she didn’t say. Laura just stared at her feet some more, tense.

“Is it about Dana?” Claudia asked gently, and Laura’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

“What –?”

Claudia smiled, taking a step closer to her, and she couldn’t help noticing the bags under her eyes, the way she breathed harder than ever when they ran around in class.

“I’ve noticed you’ve ignored her more than anyone. Is there something wrong between you two?”

‘Between you two’. She’d heard the phrase used constantly about her parents. Uncle Peter and Auntie Gwen always made use of it, because Mom and Dad were so  often in their little world. Claudia liked to waggle her finger at them when they went upstairs and say, “No funny business, you two,” and Laura knew that ‘you two’ could be used for absolutely any two people, but something inside her just

_broke_

and she whimpered, “I’m disgusting, I’m disgusting, I’m disgusting…”

Claudia gathered her in her arms, and Laura sobbed and sobbed and held on, wanting her Mom, wanting her Dad, but feeling safe in her teacher’s arms. Her body was trembling,  her heart bursting, and her head felt woozy and flooded, unable to think clearly. She didn’t want anyone to _know_ , and now Claudia was going to **_know_** and she’d tell her parents, and they’d kick her out, she’d read the stories –

“You aren’t disgusting,” Claudia whispered against her hair, stroking her back softly, “You’re beautiful, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, Laura –“

But she couldn’t let her think Laura was something she wasn’t.  She sobbed harder, and choked her, “I’m –I want –it’s not _right_ –“ her voice caught, and she couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Laura, look at me,” Claudia ordered. She obeyed, staring up at Stiles’s hazel eyes, so familiar and warm that she felt instantly better, if only a little, “I don’t care that you’re a lesbian. Or bi, or anything.”

She was shaking. She’d never used the word out loud, even though she’d read thousands of articles. Some of them had said that being…gay…was okay, that it was normal, but most of them condemned her, told her she was a monster, repulsive, that she  was going to hell.

Claudia continued, “And I know your parents wouldn’t care, either.”

“No!” Laura shouted, “No, please! Don’t tell them! They’ll throw me out, do you the percentage of LGBT+ homeless you –?”

Claudia silenced her with a look, “They would _never_ kick you out, Laura. _Never_. They don’t mind at all. Our friend Jessica is a lesbian, you know, and they’ve never minded. They’ll love you even more, for being brave and wonderful.”

Laura just shook her head, burying herself in Claudia’s arms.

…

She talked to Derek.

Derek, with all the wisdom of a ten year old, said, “Good, I was waiting until you told me. Stiles has known for a while, by the way. He was the one who explained it to me. Apparently, Lydia did a class project on queer issues last month.”

She was speechless, but when he punched her playfully, she punched back, and it dissolved into a tickle fight.

And, after a while, she talked to her parents.

She cried, and they cried, and they  hugged her, and she spent the day in bed, and Cora and Derek snuggled with her, and Stiles came over and they painted an old family portrait with Cora’s finger paint and drew a moustache, and she felt…good, for the first time in a very long while.

…

The Ultimate Prank War started completely by accident.

Stiles and Laura had figured out a way to hack the school’s speakers and put the Rick Roll on repeat for the whole day, with the help of a fun guy in Stiles’s class named Danny. Danny was always shadowed by Jackson Whittemore, who was a douche and who Stiles _despised_ , but he managed to not insult him for a few hours.

So, as they laughed so hard they forgot to breathe, hearing  the principal frantically trying to switch it off, Laura said, “The. Best. Prank.”

“I know,” Stiles grinned, “My ideas are the best.”

Laura frowned, “What? This was _my_ idea.”

Stiles chuckled, “This was _my_ idea, Laura. Remember?”

She glared, “Stiles, this was definitely _my_ idea. And anyway, _my_ ideas are the best.”

And thus started the war.

On Monday, Laura found her entire closet had been ambushed, and all her clothes were ruined. She snarled at her family for allowing Stiles to get in, and they all said innocently they had no idea how he’d gotten to her bedroom.

On Tuesday, Stiles showed up at school with his skin the color of oranges, and glared at Laura the whole time while she laughed with Dana, Jeff and Matt.

On Wednesday, Stiles manipulated Dana, Jeff and Matt to talk to her as if they were all ‘typical straight white boys’ from the internet, and Matt laughed so hard while he spoke that he cried. Dana was absolutely brilliant, she observed with pride. Trust her only black female friend to be the perfect straight white boy.

On Thursday, Laura switched Stiles’s clothes in the gym locker for a pink dress, and he showed up to class wearing it with more dignity she had expected. She took pictures.

On Friday, all of Laura’s things smelt like vomit, and she couldn’t go into her room for more than five hours.

On Saturday, when they were hanging out after theatre until the Sheriff came to pick Stiles up, glaring at each other, Derek snapped.

“Neither of you had the Rick Roll idea!” he erupted suddenly after twenty minutes of silent death glares, “ _I_ was watching a Rick Roll video, and I mentioned that the principal always flinched when he heard the song, and how hilarious it’d be to play it to him, and you both followed my lead! _I_ thought about it!”

Laura and Stiles startled, staring at Derek as if they’d never seen him before. He was fuming, face completely red, and he glowered at them, scoffing indignantly.

“That’s the Death Glare #13,” Stiles whispered, and Laura nodded in agreement.

They smiled at each other, and it was all forgiven. 

Derek sighed, irritated, but then Stiles said, “I never realized that you’re evil, Sourwolf. My heart is yours,” and he _blushed_.

Laura narrowed her eyes.

…

If Laura had thought her first years of puberty was hell, watching Derek go through them was fucking _torture_.

He snapped at everyone, and demanded they wore his clothes so they’d smell like him, and refused to let Stiles hug Scott, and only wanted to read, so he ignored them, but he’d complain when they didn’t pay attention to him. His voice deepened, and he got as tall as Laura, which Laura felt was truly unfair, and he grew thick, dark hair _everywhere_ , and Laura felt like throwing up the  first time she passed Derek’s room and smelt him being _turned on_.

The only satisfying part of it was when Derek got his Talk, and he showed up in Laura’s room, looking white and terrified.

“Mom and Dad just gave me The Talk,” he whispered, horrified.

Laura struggled not to laugh, and only a strangled snort escaped. He glared (Death Glare #4, all eyebrows, Stiles said), and clarified, “They thought they were being ‘heteronormative’ with you, and that was why you had such a bad time last year, so they gave me _pamphlets_ and discussed _gay sex_ with me, Laura.”  
Laura gave up and laughed as hard as she could, “Oh my god, this is the best day ever.”

“I _hate_ you,” Derek grumbled, and laid down on her bed, subtly rubbing his scent on the sheets. She rolled her eyes fondly.

“What did you do?”

“I literally just screamed for the whole thing. They were talking, and looking annoyed, and all I could manage to do was scream.”

Laura chuckled and ruffled his hair. He glared at her some more. How _adorable_.

“You’ll survive. I survived learning all about penises that I would never be interested in, so I think you will too.”

Derek made a strangled noise of horror, and turned his face, “I want to suffocate.”

Little brothers, she thought, are adorable.

…

And then Stiles was on their doorstep, alone, eyes red, hands shaking, and everything went to hell.

Laura was immediately getting him inside the house. It was raining, and Stiles looked _drenched_ , and miserable, and she was worried.

“What’s wrong, Stiles?” she pleaded, “Please, tell me what’s wrong?”

“My –mom,” he choked out, and Laura’s blood froze, “She’s sick.”

Stiles spent three months practically living at the Hale House. The Sheriff came by, took him to the hospital to be there for the day, and then dropped him off again, looking like death and smelling completely depressed. Stiles went quiet, and didn’t want to prank anyone, and shaved his head when Claudia had to shave hers, and refused touch anyone but his mom, Laura, Derek and Scott. He shied away from his dad’s hugs, and he didn’t sleep at night, even though Mom and Dad had given him Derek’s bed. In the end, Stiles just ended up crawling to the guest room to cuddle with Derek, anyway, and both of them slept in her brother’s tiny bed.

It was the most horrible months of Laura’s life.

She visited Claudia whenever she could, and she told her all about the final touches they made for _Romeo and Juliet_ , and Claudia smiled weakly from behind the white hospital sheets and promised she’d be there for the first showing. Laura cried at night, and started to have loads of sleepovers with Dana, who was worried. She couldn’t even enjoy having her friend’s body pressed against hers, so soft and curvy and intoxicating, and she couldn’t feel guilty about it, either. She was numb.

Claudia wasted away slowly, looking more exhausted every day, and Laura wished they’d seen it when she started looking more tired, when she couldn’t keep up with them in theatre class, so that they’d done _something_. The Sheriff was often talking with Mom and Dad, and Laura always heard sobbing behind the locked door. Melissa McCall, Scott’s wonderful mom who everyone in Beacon Hills adored, and who’d kicked out her husband a few years ago, took care of him as best as she could, but Laura could smell the alcohol in his breath.

Claudia came to the first showing of _Romeo and Juliet_ , looking thinner than ever, and clapped feebly, and when it finished the entire theatre school went to hug her and told her how much they adored her, and Stiles cried. Derek gathered him up in his arms and murmured reassurances. Laura just clutched Claudia tightly, still dressed like Juliet and not giving a damn about it.

Claudia died after three months.

Stiles was there, holding her hand, when her pulse stammered, stammered, and stopped.

…

Dana was nervous.

Laura cocked an eyebrow at her, gesturing at the mess she’d made with her paint, the one thing she adored more than physics, and asked, “What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you’re about to run away.”

Her friend tensed, her hands leaving the paintbrush on the Laura’s desk, and swallowed, “Nothing.”

Laura shook her head, “Ah, no, gurl. You’ve been shaking since we got inside my room. Am I really that ugly? We can drop the portrait idea, if you want to,”

Dana bit her lip, “No. It’s. It’s finished.”

“O-kay,” Laura smirked, “Show it to me?”

Dana’s hands were trembling, her heartbeat spiraling out of control and she frowned.  What was _wrong_ with her? Was she…sick? A pang of cold horror hit her, but that wasn’t right. She couldn’t be sick, she was _Dana_ , who’s never gotten a cold in her life. And besides,  if she _was_ , Mom would give her the bite, because they’d catch it on time. She cleared her thought away from Claudia, knowing she’d cry if she continued.

Dana showed Laura the canvas, not meeting her eyes.

She’d been painting for at least an hour, and Laura had begun to get bored, so she’d expected some very complicated, amazing portrait, all detailed.

She hadn’t expected to be there, written in red paint, ‘I’m in love with you’.

Laura’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. Her heart was beating madly now, keeping up with Dana’s, and she struggled to form words, to convey _yes. I want this.  I want you. Yes. To everything_.

But Dana apparently took her dumbfounded silence for a show of rejection, and her shoulders stiffened, “I should go,” she got up and started to leave, her face red and her eyes lifeless.

Laura grabbed her wrist, pulled her close, and kissed her deeply.

Dana’s face was dirty with red paint, and her palms were sweaty, and her breath smelt like chicken, and she was awkward about the kiss, but it was a thousand times more amazing that the horrible attempt at a kiss Fred Martin had given her. Her head was spinning and she felt giddy and excited and in love, and Dana kissed her back just as passionately, making a _sound_.

She _growled_ , and her hands went to Dana’s waist, holding her in place, leaving bruises, she knew, but she didn’t care, and it was _glorious –_

Derek, from the doorway, screamed.

They jumped apart, breathing heavily, and Laura glared at her brother, “Great timing, asshole.”

Derek scowled with all the dignity twelve year olds had, and spat, “Thanks, _jerk_ ,” he smiled at the mortified Dana, who was touching her lips softly, “You have horrible taste, Dana, but I like you anyway.”

He left.

The two girls looked at each other for a second, and erupted in giggles.

…

Laura announced, “We are going bowling.”

Stiles blinked sleepily at Laura, still holding the door open, looking like he’d just woken up even though it was the middle of the afternoon, “What?”

“We are going bowling,” Laura repeated, “With my siblings, my Uncle and my girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Stiles asked groggily, “Since when?”

Laura ignored him, stepped inside, and dragged him by his wrist. The kitchen was full of dirty plates, and something smelled rotten, and the stench of alcohol was nauseating. The Sheriff slept on the sofa now, going by the bundle of blankets and the sweat Laura could sense. She missed Claudia, a pang in her chest.

When they got to Stiles’s room, her heart fell. Her best friend’s room was so cool because all of the walls were covered in pictures, snapshots of his life. Laura loved the one in which the Hale kids and Stiles were together, grinning at the camera. Scott was heavily featured, as was Laura and Derek. Lydia and Cora were always together, and his parents were everywhere: holding him when he was a baby, helping him blow the candle at his first birthday, dressing him for the first day of school, pushing him at swings, sitting on the floor in the theatre classroom.

All of the beautiful pictures were gone, torn off the walls, on the floor. Some of them were even broken, teared apart by Stiles’s angry hands, she’d bet. The bed was made, but the sheets rumpled. It was clear Stiles didn’t sleep much.

“Get dressed,” she barked at him, feeling her wolf whining, “And then we’re going bowling.”

Stiles obeyed automatically, not saying anything, and Laura fixed what little hair he had and made him wash his face. She felt like a mother at fifteen, and she wanted to burst into tears. She should’ve done this months ago, but Stiles had refused to go to the Hale House, barely talking to them, quiet and subdued, and answered weakly when Laura went up to him in class.

But then she’d seen the Sheriff, crying on the edge of Hale property, completely drunk, and she’d told her parents, worried.

So, while she took Stiles bowling to cheer him up, Mom and Dad were taking the Sheriff to rehab. Laura felt incredibly guilty, but she _knew_ it was the right thing to do, that the Sheriff needed it desperately.

Stiles followed her, and she phoned Dana, who was borrowing her parents’ car because having a sixteen year old girlfriend was _awesome_ , and she picked them up.

“Hey, Stiles,” Dana grinned when she saw him, “Long time, no see.”

He murmured something that Laura didn’t catch, and they drove to the bowling alley.

Derek immediately ran for Stiles, “Oh my _god_ , Stiles, I caught them _making out_ , in the _house –_!”

Slowly, carefully, Stiles unwound. Derek  kept babbling, and reaching for him, and Stiles let himself be touched, and Lydia insulted his fashion sense, and Uncle Peter told him tearfully that he’d recorded himself while he slept and he did, indeed, snore, and Scott was there,  saying nothing but smiling at Stiles like only kids could.

So Laura felt like an ass when she took him with her for a quiet chat, and said, “Your dad needs help, Stiles.”

He startled, “No, he doesn’t.”

Laura held his hand, “Look at me,” she said, remembering how Claudia had confronted her all that time ago. Stiles did, hesitantly, “Your dad is sick in a different way, and he’s going to get help.”

Stiles hesitated again, “Is it because…because of the drinking?”

Laura nodded, “Yeah, Stiles. He needs a little time alone. So, you’re staying with us for some time. Not long, I promise.”

He bit his lip, “Can I sleep with Derek?”

She smirked, “You should ask _him_ , that, Stiles.”

“He’ll just think I’ll try to prank him.”

“ _Again_.”

“The blue hair was barely an acceptable prank! I felt _ashamed_!”

It would be alright.

…

Laura and Derek helped put the photos up, and added some new ones. Stiles quietly thanked them by squeezing their hands.

Laura had wanted to talk to Stiles about his dad, but her parents took care of that, and her friend seemed to understand, even if he woke up crying in the middle of the night, and usually just slept in Derek’s bed.

The Sheriff came back after a while, looking pale and tired, but he clutched Stiles tightly in his arms, and he didn’t let go for a long time. When it was late, there was no question as to if Stiles as going to be with his dad for the night.

Laura was immensely relieved.

…

Laura lost her virginity when she was sixteen.

It was really awkward and sticky and gross.  And it was also hilarious, with snickers and bad innuendos, and she blushed and her lips felt on fire when she kissed Dana long after they’d stopped shivering.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, cabbage head,” smirked Dana, and she threw a pillow at her.

…

Uncle Peter proposed another camping trip after Stiles’s first important play.

The three Hale siblings looked at each other, biting their lips and wondering if they should let Uncle Peter down easily, but then Stiles _beamed_ and how could the three of them ever deny Stiles _anything_.

Scott demanded he come to this one, so they got two tents (thank God), and Lydia gave Laura a lecture about having sex with other people in the tent, and she colored and shouted at her and wondered where the hell had the eleven year old heard about that.

Uncle Peter decided the Hale woods were too close to home, so they packed huge bags, and bought a dozen packets of chips and brought five or six MP3 players, and started the road trip the week of Easter holidays.

Stiles was almost _vibrating_ , that was how excited he was, and he and Scott kept grinning and rolling down the window so they could shout at cars, “Excuse me, sir, have you got a minute to talk about our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ?” and Dana laughed and laughed (Laura worried she was going to crash the car) and Derek put Stiles on his lap so he wouldn’t shout quite so loud, and he wriggled and smirked as he squished him. Cora and Lydia were in the other car with Uncle Derek, but Cora glared at them through the window quite a few times. Classic Cora.

The woods were unfamiliar, and the wolves wanted nothing but to run around and explore it, but Uncle Peter looked pointedly at Scott and Lydia and shook his head. Derek set the tents up in seconds, and they played tag, trying not to be seen behind the trees, and Laura and Dana made out for a while until Cora declared that she thought they were gross, and also, Laura was it.

“Freaking kid,” Laura growled, her hands tightening on Dana’s waist, her heart pounding.

Her girlfriend raised an eyebrow (how was she not flustered?) and stepped away purposefully, “You’re it!” she screeched, and ran away.

Laura smirked. Trying to outrun a wolf: not a good idea. She frowned a bit; Dana still didn’t know her secret, and she kind of wanted her to know. She bit her lip.

Could she bring it up with Mom? She _was_ the Alpha, after all.

Later, she’d think about it later.

She walked stealthily, trying to find someone to catch before they stopped playing tag, when she heard it.

“Derek, come on. _Stop_. I’m not made of glass, jerk.”

She froze. Stiles.

“You _know_ I don’t mean that. I just…I want to take care of you,” her _brother_ said.

 _Derek_. Admitting. He had…feelings. _Wow_.

“You take care of me when you bring me ice cream and play videogames I know you don’t like, and when you remind my dad about blood sugar, and when we go to the park and just talk for hours, and it’s _easy_ , ok? So, yeah, don’t be a mother hen, Derek, jeez.”

Laura’s mouth was hanging open. She didn’t know Derek and Stiles were _that_ close. It was pretty obvious that her brother adored Stiles, followed him around, made sure he was always content, but she’d thought that while Stiles liked Derek well enough, he didn’t really return it.

She felt out of place, like she shouldn’t be listening to it. Derek’s voice sounded wretched, and painful, and she could hear Stiles’s breathing, hitched, and their hearts beating. She guessed her brother was too focused on Stiles to notice her.

Laura quietly backed away, and tagged Scott, who groaned.

…

She started to notice.

Derek and Stiles touched each other _a lot_. They were together all the time. They sat together on the couch, when they were laying on the floor doing nothing. Derek carried Stiles on his back loads of times, and Stiles giggled and clutched Derek’s shirt tightly; her brother usually walked Stiles home, because Laura stayed late for debate class. And, somehow, all of the group of friends were aware that they should leave them to their space when they were withdrawn. Only Stiles touched Derek when her brother sulked, or had one of his famous existential crisis, and Derek was the only exception to the ‘Leave Stiles Alone’ rule when he was thinking about his mom.

Laura bit her lip.

…

One day, when Stiles was thirteen, gangly and awkward and taking too much Adderall, he showed up at the Hale House with a bruised teenager at his side, Scott helping the poor guy stand up.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Mom was instantly at the door, checking the bruised teenager for more wounds.

Laura approached them carefully, hesitant, “Stiles, who’s this?”

“This is Isaac Lahey,” his voice trembled, “He’s thirteen, in my class, and his dad is some fucking psychopath who does horrible things to him. Please help.”

The guest room became Isaac’s, and the subdued-looking teen looked at them pathetically gratefully before falling asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, moaning slightly.

Dad cleaned the cuts he  had, and Mom took away the pain, her eyes flashing red,  her breath catching, and Stiles and Scott narrated calmly how they’d noticed that Isaac always had a bruise somewhere, and he didn’t even play lacrosse. After they’d befriended him, it became pretty clear what was going on. When Stiles got confirmation from Isaac and convinced him to testify, he’d called the Sheriff to get him out, but Mr. Lahey had gotten to him first.

Isaac was quiet, and awkwardly thankful about everything, and he called Mom “ma’am” and he liked Nutella sandwiches and cried the first time he opened the freezer and flinched when someone scolded him, expecting the worst.

It reminded Laura way  too much of how she’d felt before she came out, alone and weak and desperate, like anything could be a reference, like everyone was watching her. Except Laura’s Mom  had loved her, while Mr. Lahey had been the most gut-wrenching, terrible man on the planet.

Laura decided Isaac was going to be the happiest ever.

She baked him cupcakes, and played Monopoly with him, and pranked people with him, and they once stole a baby at a shopping center, and gave him back before the tired mother could realize he was gone. They pretended to be shop assistants at Walmart and said “Fuck you,” to people who asked questions.

Isaac, though, was _gone_ for Scott.

He adored him, followed him around like a puppy, and repeated what he’d said to him like it was gospel. Stiles grumbled about it, and how “Scott was _his_ best friend, dammit,” but Derek just smirked and called him a jealous baby.

All was better, and Isaac became a Hale, until the McDonald’s incident.

The whole family had gone to McDonald’s, like they always did every few months or so, because it was fun and unhealthy and generally great, and they ordered so _many_ chicken nuggets.

And then the girl at the register gaped, and gaped, and lights started to flash, and she said, sounding breathless, “You just won a lifetime supply of chicken nuggets.”

Laura started to cry, “I… _love_ …chicken nuggets.”

For three weeks, there was no food at the Hale House except chicken nuggets.

Breakfast? Chicken nuggets.

Lunch? Chicken nuggets.

Dinner? Guess? Fucking chicken nuggets.

Dad gave up after he had chicken nuggets instead of tea at two a.m.

He snapped, “I am not eating any more fucking chicken nuggets if I have to fucking kill someone!”

Isaac gasped, “You swore.”

Laura threw chicken nuggets in the air.

They gave them to a food bank. Eventually. (After totally _not_ having a chicken nugget fight in the backyard. Yeah).

…

It took some time for Laura to bring it up.

“I want to tell Dana our secret,” she blurted out one day, when Cora and Derek were out with Lydia and Stiles.

Mom opened her mouth, “O –“

“I’m eighteen,” she rushed out, wanting to say her piece, “And I’m graduating soon, and I’m an adult, and we’ve been dating _ages_ , and I –I love her, and I don’t like lying to her.”

“Okay,”

“And I know she can be trust –wait, what?”

“Okay,” Mom repeated, smiling, amused, “You can tell Dana. Do you want us to help?”

Laura deflated, “That’s it? No speech about the importance of secrecy?”

“Laura,” Dad raised an eyebrow, “Stiles, Scott and Lydia all know our secret. And they’ve never said anything. And they’re tiny.”

“SCOTT AND LYDIA KNOW?! Since when?”

“Since we took in a stray kid whose best friend is nosy, and showed him how we run together as a _wolf pack_ at full moons?”

That…made sense.

“Oh.”

So, she told Dana.

Her girlfriend’s face filled with relief, “Oh my _god_ , Laura, I thought you were breaking up with me! You’re just a werewolf. Oh my _god_.”

“What?” Laura frowned, bewildered.

“You kept glancing at me with this ‘I’m Laura Hale and I’m guilty’ face and you were nervous and I _knew_ you had some sort of secret, and you were anxious and –and you can’t break up with me, you big furry witch!” she threw herself at Laura and whispered, “I don’t care. Derek told me a few months ago, you know.”

Laura gaped, “That little –“

“Stiles made him,”

She hummed, understanding.

…

The  school year started, and Lydia, Cora, Scott and Stiles were all freshmen.

Lydia showed up at school, face covered in make-up, hair perfectly styled, clothes obviously from the latest fashion, and everyone fell over themselves to make seat at their tables, talk to her, get a bit of her attention.

Cora, who had all of it, just smirked and leaned back in her chair.

Scott turned out to be a cute, sociable creature, who everyone liked well enough; but, without even so much as a day in school, Stiles was pushed into a locker, Jackson Whittemore calling him a ‘fucking weirdo as hell know-it-all faggot’ because he’d mentioned he’d been to theatre class all his life.

Laura found out from an incredibly furious, shaking Scott, and when she went to beat him up, fangs lengthening, found Derek already there, holding him up by his shirt collar and shouting in his ear.

She helped him a bit, and mentioned that, as well as theatre class, she’d also attended weekly judo lessons, and did he really care about Stiles Stilinski?

After it all, Stiles got mad at Derek because he “could protect myself, okay? You’re not my fucking bodyguard”, and Laura walked him home.

“I am, you know,” he saig casually when they were just turning the street to see his house, “A fucking weirdo as hell know-it-all faggot,”

Laura startled, but tried not to let it show, “You’re not.”

Stiles’s fists clenched, and he opened his mouth, but Laura beat him to it.

“You’re a wonderful, intelligent, sassy gay guy, who I love to death, okay?”

His anger disappeared without a trace, and he slumped a little, “Don’t tell Derek.”

“Okay,” she promised, and hugged him before saying hello to a smiling, healthy as ever Sheriff, who she knew loved Stiles just as much as she did, and leaving.

…

“Hey,” said a cheerful voice.

Laura turned instinctly, her hair whipping her face, “Erm, hi?”

The girl behind her was smiling, her cheeks pink, blonde hair loose, falling all over her shoulders. She was a little older, maybe early twenties, and even Laura, who was happily taken, knew that she was gorgeous.

“I’m Kate,” she cracked an easy grin, leaning forward a little, “D’you want a coffee?”

Considering she was standing in front of a café, that was rather obvious. ‘Kate’ was either flirting with her or really desperately trying to  make friends, but there was no way Laura could say no. Anyone could see she _had_ wanted a coffee.

“Yeah,” she nodded, not meeting her eyes, “Sure.”

Kate beamed, and bought her a latte, and they sat together at one of the coffee tables, and Laura smelled her excitement, and hoped she could let her down easily.

“Are you from Beacon Hills?” Kate asked, sipping her cup.

Laura hmmed, “My family is one of the oldest here.”

After a few seconds of waiting for her to add something, Kate barreled through, “I’m from New York. Just staying here for a few weeks. Looking for some fun.”

She met Laura’s eyes, and licked her lips.

If it wasn’t already obvious, _that_ would’ve given it away. Laura finished her coffee with a long ‘slurp’, stood up, and smiled politely, “I’m really sorry, but my _girlfriend_ is expecting me.”

Kate’s face fell, and she looked embarrassed, “Oh. Oh my _god_ , I’m so sorry –“

“Don’t worry about it,” Laura reassured her, and left without thinking about it again.

When she got home, Stiles was at the kitchen table, legs swinging, happily chatting with Derek about something. His eyes found hers, and he grinned, “Hey, Laura! Derek and I were thinking about doing something spectacular for Halloween.”

Usually, the Hale family ignored Halloween. Mom and Dad didn’t talk about it, but Laura knew they’d had a really bad experience with Hunters once, and they disliked the holiday. But Isaac had made a comment, about two weeks ago, about being really excited to dress up and go trick-or-treating for the first time, and that had been it.

Laura planned to go as a werewolf.

“Oh, yeah? What you thinking about?” she sat down beside him, resting her face on her palm, elbows on the table.

Derek glanced at her, and some days Laura freaked out because her baby brother was growing up. He was almost fifteen, and he’d started to shave, and he had _muscles_ , from all the training Mom subjected them to. She hoped he wouldn’t get a _girlfriend_ ; she’d die.

Cora, who was as demonic at thirteen as she’d been at four, just sighed from the couch, reading some obscure book series she’d found in the huge Hale Library.

“I wanted to have a Halloween party at the Hale House,” Stiles’s eyes were glowing, and he was smiling steadily, “Invite _everyone_. Derek said that he’d invite his friends, you know, all two of them, and you can invite everyone in your class, and I’ll invite _my_ friends –“

Laura smirked, “And then we can prank them?”

He winked.

…

The House was bursting with energy.

Colorful lights were darting across the dance floor, the music was blaring through the speakers, people were sweating and thrusting and rubbing themselves all over somebody, the stench of alcohol in the air, and Laura wrinkled her nose, making her way through the crowd, muttering under her breath when the guests refused to let her pass.

She was looking for Stiles, because she was just about to put the Hale House in Haunted House Mode, complete with people screaming and hired actors and locked doors, and she hadn’t seen him since he’d just come in, Scott laughing and calling him ‘old’ because he was almost fourteen, his Spiderman suit glinting in the strobe lights.

Laura bumped into Dana, gave her a filthy kiss and almost came right then and there, but she remembered herself in the last moment, mumbled that she’d be _back_ , and grumbled about stupid Stiles and her stupid bladder ruining her fun.

She saw the toilet, and thanked the higher spirits, because she _needed_ it after three drinks, and was about to open the doors when she heard _moaning_ and. No.

She went upstairs, crouching to get pass the ‘ROOMS- _NOT_ FOR SEX, JAMES’ sign, and ran to the Hale siblings bathroom door, when she saw it.

Derek and Stiles were on her brother’s bed, lips touching.

She completely _froze_.

It was a chaste, sweet, soft kiss, because Stiles was barely a kid and Derek was stupidly romantic, it seemed, but they were blushing, and Laura could hear their heartbeat rocket, their heavy breathing, the way the air crackled with electricity.

“Oh my _god_ ,” she screeched before she could stop herself, and the two boys jumped apart, cheeks reddening even more.

“ _Laura_!” Derek bellowed, eyes glowing yellow. _Someone_ had enjoyed that, “Get _OUT_!”

Stiles couldn’t meet her eyes, and she scrambled out of there, giggling and thinking, _I totally saw this coming_.

And then she punched ‘Haunted House Mode’ and waited for the screams of terror.

The guests didn’t disappoint.

…

“ _Always_ use protection –“

“Oh my _god_ , Laura, I do _not_ need to know what you and _Dana_ –“

“–no means _no_ , Derek, I mean it –“

“–Shut up! Shut up! Shut –!”

“–Stiles is younger than you and he should set the pace –“

“–God, if you’re real, please kill me now. Thanks. I appreciate it –“

“–And now, if you’re not mature enough to buy condoms, you’re not mature enough to –“

Derek just sang desperately and covered his ears, moaning as he did so, “Please, _stop_.”

Laura grinned, delighted, “Oh, brother dearest, I just want to make sure –“

“He’s almost fourteen, _I_ ’m fifteen, we kissed _once_ , and you ruined it, so he probably doesn’t ever want to see me again–” his voice cracked, and he buried his head in his arms, whining, “He’s going to hate me, Laura. He’s amazing, and he makes pancakes and he speaks Polish and he’s going to think I’m a _weirdo_.”

Laura ruffled his hair, “He adores you, Derek. He likes telling you about his pranks first, and he ditches _me_ , the coolest human being on this Earth, to hang out with you. And he’s be bonkers to not go out with you.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, though he looked flushed, “Have you been reading Harry Potter again, Laura? ‘Bonkers’?” he snickered.

“You better keep your wand unsheathed for a while now, Derek,” Laura sneered, and he lunged at her.

Spoiler Alert: Stiles didn’t hate him. Stiles blushed and rubbed the back of his neck and blurted out really quickly, “Would you be my boyfriend?” and Derek barely breathed before emphatically repeating _Yes_ all over and over, flustered.

Laura knew because Scott came to him swearing at one a.m., swearing at her and telling her to control her brother, because if Stiles gushed about him one more time…

Not to worry. Laura had a contingency plan.

…

At Christmas, Laura held up the mistletoe over Derek and Stiles’s heads, and grinned, and the two boys complained and cursed her, but they kissed anyway.

…

When Laura went back to school after winter holidays, her worst nightmares came true.

“Oh my _god_ , I think my ovaries just exploded,” whimpered a freshman girl, clutching her friend’s arm.

“Tell _me_ about it. He wasn’t like _this_ before Christmas!”

Laura rolled her eyes, amused, and turned to see who they were talking about. Probably Jake or Ed, two of the ‘Hottie Alert’ list. To her horror, it was Derek, who was leaning against his locker, staring at his notebook, a sappy smile on his face, probably doodling ‘Mr. Stiles Hale’ or ‘I heart Stiles’ like the lovesick puppy he was.

She turned back to the freshman girls, aghast, only to discover a larger crowd had formed, all of them ogling her _brother_. She felt the urge to throw up, and could barely summon any courage when she overheard a girl in _her year_ confess, “I want to lick his abs.”

Laura almost fainted.

If she’d known what was going to  happen, she’d have forbidden Derek from spending the holidays working out, determined to make the track team. But Stiles had begged.

“I know he’s your brother, but let him? For me? He’s really _hot_.”

She gagged at the memory.

Laura decided she was very glad she was graduating.

At least it wasn’t as bad as when Lydia and Cora became the most popular girls in Beacon Hills High.

…

Laura opened her door one day to find the Sheriff there.

She blinked, “John? Want  anything? Oh god, did Stiles kill someone? We have a game plan, don’t worry.”

The Sheriff looked miserable, “Please tell me it’s not true.”

“What?”

“Please tell me Stiles and Derek aren’t dating.”

Her blood froze. She’d always thought…surely Claudia wouldn’t marry someone who was –?

“Because I trust Derek well enough, but Stiles once put sleeping pills in my coffee to try to convince me time was passing without me noticing, so I’m kind of terrified.”

She relaxed, and sighed dramatically, “I’m sorry to say it _is_ true, John,”

He groaned, “I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about this until he was _at least_ sixteen!”

She exhaled, shaking her head tearfully, “They grow up so fast. And John, he _is_ sixteen. His birthday was last month, remember?”

The Sheriff frowned, “What –?” and then he noticed her smirk, and cursed her before leaving off in a huff.

…

Laura was sleeping soundly in her bed when she heard Isaac scream, and Stiles shouting, “WAKE _UP_!”

She was immediately up and alert, heart racing, shifting into beta form, running to her little sister’s room, grabbing a scared, quiet Cora, and picking Isaac up by the scruff of his neck, the smell of smoke invading her nostrils.

She was running downstairs, calling for Derek, Stiles and her parents, when she saw them standing at the doorstep, wood burning around them.

“What are you _waiting_ for?!” she shrieked, “Let’s get out!”

“Mountain ash,” Dad growled, his eyes glowing.

Laura’s heart stopped. Someone had done this? Deliberately?

She couldn’t afford to wonder, though, “Get Stiles and Isaac out, then!”

Stiles glared, “I’m not –“ cough “ –leaving you!”

Derek whimpered, holding him close and burying his head in his chest, and Laura felt like sobbing.

“We aren’t getting out?” she choked out, and Isaac just clung closer to her, determined not to leave, mumbling, “I love you, Laura.”

“ _No!_ ” Stiles screamed, “We are getting _out_! Laura! Bring me some fucking salt!”

She obeyed, leaving the kids sobbing on the floor, feeling tears at the corners of her own eyes, coughing as she breathed in the smoke. She felt weak, and dizzy, and barely managed to pass Stiles the salt.

“This is going to fucking hurt,” he announced, and grabbed Mom’s arm, poured salt onto it, and pressed it to the line of mountain ash.

Mom _howled_ , a scream of agony that felt like it reached every part of America, surpassing the ocean and getting out, and Stiles was _chanting_ , and where the _hell_ had Stiles learnt that –?

And then the mountain ash _crumbled_ , and Dad was picking all of them up, Uncle Peter appearing, wild eyed look on his face, getting them all out, out, _out_ , before the Hale House shuddered and fell apart around them.

…

It was Kate Argent, a psychopath from a family of Hunters, who’d burnt down the Hale House,, trying to kill them all.

Laura took the news like a blow to the chest, a faraway memory punching her in the gut. _Kate_. Kate in the coffee shop, who’d smiled at her and flirted and tried to probably _get information_.

She threw up, and threw up again as Derek recounted in a cold, emotionless voice how she’d approached him, too, except she hadn’t given up until he’d pushed her away, terrified,  and fled, trembling.

She’d gone for Peter, then, who was happy and chatty, and who thought ‘coffee with his new friend Kate, who was a major at linguistics’, required him to invite her over to the Hale House to have dinner. She’d confided in him, telling him that old houses scared her, especially if few people lived there, and he’d laughed and said, “ _Nah, the whole family lives there. Hell, a few of the kids’s friends practically live there too. It’s always crowded_.”

She threw up a  third time, while Uncle Peter sobbed and sobbed and Auntie Gwen comforted him as best as she could while he shook in her arms.

But they were alive, and Chris, Kate’s sister, had killed her for her breaking of the Code, and nobody had gotten hurt, because Stiles had saved them.

“Scott got a job at the vet,” he told them, after a few hours of police questioning and his dad hugging him to death and also looking _very_ disapproving when he’d been told that Stiles had been sleeping in Derek’s bed, “And the doctor there told me I was magic. I thought he was crazy, but then he mentioned you –Anyway,  it was like, a month ago, and he said he wasn’t sure if I was magic enough to _really_ matter, like for spells and stuff, and I didn’t want to tell you and let you down, so I –. But he taught me how to neutralize mountain ash,” he looked at the floor, Derek’s arms wrapped around him, “I guess it came in handy.”

“You saved our lives, Stiles,” Mom said, and crushed him in a bear hug.

…

There was a box of things that survived the fire.

Laura was digging through them, in the Stilinski’s kitchen, when she found Dana’s _I’m in love with you_ painting, and cried with relief that it was just a bit darkened by smoke.

And then she found the leather notebook.

It was all in the same box, and Laura had been chosen to go through all of it because Derek and Stiles and Scott were playing videogames in the Sheriff’s living room, relaxing a bit, so she was alone when she found it.

The second she read the first word, she grinned for the first time since the fire.

The boys barely looked up when she strode into the room, smirking evilly, but Derek’s head snapped up when she began reading.

“ _Today, I found myself contemplating Stiles’s eyes. I would call them brown, but they aren’t. Somehow, they are mixture of honey, and chocolate, and molten gold, and they swallow me deep in their gaze_.”

Derek had gone extremely red, and Stiles was staring at him in horror and blushing at the same time.

“Stop it, Laura,” Derek growled, and made a move to physically take the _Diary_ away from her.

She flipped the pages until she found the mark she’d left, “ _Stiles’s body is tempting, almost too tempting. His hips, his lips, his jaw, his legs, his thighs, even his ankles are inviting, and my wolf wants to_ –“

Derek snarled and lunged at her. She fell over, laughing until she cried, and Scott carried on her last wish in this life and kept reading.

For ten minutes.

She cackled gleefully.

…

Stiles _did_ end up being magic. He mostly told wand jokes and sometimes couldn’t be bothered to make coffee the normal way, but sometimes he and Deaton could do amazing things.

…

A few months after the fire, Stiles and Derek brought Erica Reyes, one of the only two friends Derek had at school, to the  Hales’s new house, which was still being finished, barely furnished.

“Hey,” Mom greeted, suspicious of the seriousness on their faces.

“Mom, she has seizures. Give her the bite,” Derek ordered, and Erica bit her lip and glanced at them, eyes wide with hope, and the Hales adopted another stray.

They _really_ didn’t mind.

Chris came over to apologize (for the twelfth time, and as always, with flowers and chocolates), and brought his daughter Allison with him, a smiling, jumping girl who was amazing at maths and who had curly brown hair.

Scott took one look at hair and fell face-first on the floor.

She just offered him a hand.

Laura smirked and didn’t even bother to hide it. Stiles groaned.

…

Laura went to college, and Dana went with her. They fucked all the time in their dorm, and her roommate sighed exasperatingly, and they drank themselves silly, and Laura acted every day and she went home every few weekends because she couldn’t survive without seeing her family from time to time, and she possessively left love bites on Dana’s neck, and she loved every second of it.

…

After Laura graduated, this time without the fresh memory of the fire on her mind, she went to visit Stiles immediately, eager to giggle and prank and have fun…

…and found him getting fucked by her baby brother.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD JESUS CHRIST!” she screamed, and closed the door, wanting to erase the image from her mind.

“HOW THE FUCK DID YOU NOT _SMELL_ IT!” screeched Derek, sounding strangled and… _things_. She shuddered.

“I was distracted!”

Stiles moaned with self-pity (or at least, she _hoped_ it was with self-pity), “I’m never looking at her in the eye again, Der. And don’t be such a Sourwolf.”

…

Laura went to fifteen experts who assured her they could get delete unwanted memories, but her brother taking Stiles from behind like she hadn’t seen him in _diapers_ sadly never left her.

…

Laura was four when her parents brought home a baby.

Twenty-two years later, she stood proudly, _totally_ not crying, no matter what Cora said, as she watched him marry her best friend, and kiss him like he was starving for it.

 (And the helicopter with the banner "much love very marriage"? Not her, obviously.)

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked it! Comments and kudos are ALWAYS appreciated, and make me smile :)  
> -thankyouforexisting


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